


Lies on Your Lips

by Zhanna0717



Series: Echoes Half-Heard [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fade Dreams, Hurt, Romance, Solas Romance, Solavellan, kiss, right in the vhenan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 16:12:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9769796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhanna0717/pseuds/Zhanna0717
Summary: Her fingers shuddered meekly as she hesitated, standing close enough to feel his breath on her skin. She had stood so close so many times before, seemingly so long ago, in a different world, and yet she had never heard a thundering so loud within her chest. In a breath, in a blink, he will disappear, he will leave her wondering whether it was all another dream. Whether he was ever there or her traumatic past was finally taking its toll on her sanity; after everything, it wouldn’t be a surprise that her fear and pain would manifest itself in a ghost of the man responsible for it all. The man who rent everything she - anyone - knew about the world to dust.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago, and posted it on Tumblr. I'd long meant to put it up here as well, though probably won't go into the main story, but never got around to it. Seeing as today is Valentine's day, seems like it's a perfect occasion to revisit the pit of Solavellan hell. 
> 
> Hope it hurts so good and enjoy. 
> 
> P.S. who am I kidding? Step even one toe into solavellan hell and you can never get out.

Eyes glinted in the dark of the closed doorway. The same eyes of the wolf that prowled in her dreams nearly every night.  
  
Lavellan exhaled forcefully, irritation blanketing her. _And here we are again_. She did not know how much longer she could possibly handle him keeping tabs on her but never speaking, never approaching her enough to be sure he was actually there. She had tried everything to draw him out, to somehow react to her. Nothing.  
  
“Stop hiding.” She commanded and forced herself to sit up. She had yelled and pleaded the same words to him before, but her patience was gone, and she could no longer offer up anymore of herself for him to hurt. Her anger and despair finally got the best of her.  
  
The furs on the floor brushed against her feet as she stepped closer, caution intermingled into her hopeless stride.  
  
His nebulous eyes watched her, not a glimmer of hope left within them; blue-gray seas of an old soul, weary and growing ever colder, long lost to the joys of this world.  
  
Her fingers shuddered meekly as she hesitated, standing close enough to feel his breath on her skin. Lavellan had stood so close so many times before, seemingly so long ago, in a different world, and yet she had never heard a thundering so loud within her chest. Her nervous hand curled into a fist instinctively, the shaking hidden from sight and mind. In a breath, in a blink, he will disappear, he will leave her wondering whether it was all another dream. Whether he was ever there or her traumatic past was finally taking its toll on her sanity; after everything, it wouldn’t be a surprise that her fear and pain would manifest itself in a ghost of the man responsible for it all. The man who rent everything she - anyone - knew about the world to dust.  
  
The man whose eyes were tired, yearning for rest and unable to ever find it. Whose every scar and flaw and perfect feature was familiar and recognizable to her even in the dim light of the room. His face was unreadable; a stoic carving of a solemn man, still and silent. His eyes never drifted from hers, but there was no adoration in them. Only anticipation for what she would possibly do next.  
  
He could almost be real.  
  
A wispy coolness caressed their transfixed silhouettes, rustling the mass of fragrant branches outside the door. Lavellan’s eyes lowered their focus from the scrutinizing orbs of the man that stood before her, whoever he was. _He’s everything I was. Everything I am._  
  
She fought with what to do; nothing she had said until this point elicited more than stares. In one seamless motion, Lavellan’s hand reached for his neck and her lips pressed gently against his own. _Everything I ever will be_. The feel of that impeccably shaped mouth of his, one corner perpetually pulled into a subtle simper, sent a fiery shiver through her veins.  
  
She bit back the anger, refusing to accept what her senses were telling her- he was there. It wasn’t a dream.  
  
She waited and hoped he would kiss her back, or push her away, or at least do something. Something to let her know she wasn’t losing her mind. She pulled away but remained close, enough to see the glow of her skin in the fire light was a cold gleam in his eyes.  
  
“You do not know what you ask for.” His whisper was not exactly a warning. Her eyes fixed on his, a devious flicker darting across their entrapping depths. He hadn’t left, nor pushed her away. She baffled him as much as he did her. And so her battle weathered fingers caged around his jaw, her lips a hair’s breadth from his own, her eyes locked onto his.  
  
She was not about to let him blame this all on her; a mortal bedeviled by an ancient god, desperate for his attention. No. The mortal held power in this forlorn story of pointless, masochistic entanglement, and she would make him know his place.  
  
“Neither do you.” Her tone was as cold and dark as her eyes, full of menacing, velveteen allure. _Toying with a god. How bold and harebrained of me_.  
  
His jaw set with a determined clench. The way he uttered her name, it was as if its short length carried miles of memories; the smell of her hair, the undeniable lull of her voice, the lines of his favorite scars slashing across her skin. His brows tugged into a pained frown, the first sign of emotion and mortality in his resigned, stony face. There was no life in his arms, and they hung limp at his sides, never making a reach for her warmth as they would have done before. She spoke the truth, bitter as it was. _The blame is mine, not yours_. His own words haunted him.  
  
_What do I even call you?_ Lavellan swallowed a shaky breath, denying the tiniest burn in the back of her mind, telling her he didn’t need her any longer.  
  
Her fingers slipped hopelessly from his chin. She smiled defiantly, venomously; the taste of mulled wine personified. The softest scoff pounced from her lips to his ears. Decidedly, she turned her back on the man she loved most, the man she craved so deeply, if he could be called such a thing. Fen’Harel.  
  
His own sanity dragged behind her feet, and he watched as Lavellan walked away from him, his throat tightening dangerously. He couldn’t keep doing this to them both any longer. This was the last time. If only he hadn’t said that a hundred times before.  
  
A wildfire raged beneath his ribs, thrashing around for escape. A prickle slithered across his skin each inch she drew further away from him. The despondent abyss yawned open at his core, savagely wrenching him in with each one of her steps. He hoped she would rise from the ashes of this shattered attachment, sunlight after a winter’s night, all while he would creep in the shadows, hating the light of day and the song of life without her. But he knew it was just as foolish to deny their reality. She was tethered to him much as he was to her. He had failed. He craved her light, needed it, yet only managed to dim it the closer he got to her. His heart lost its beat. Panic grated his nerves to leaky pulp.  
  
Lavellan knew. Fen’Harel or not, she remained. _Foolish girl_. He wished she would have been livid enough to hate him to the utmost, that she would have sought solace in another. And yet a selfish murmur in the depths of his soul wreathed in mirth to see her once more. It pleaded for her affection, for him to bury his face into the hollow of her neck and kiss her skin.  
  
Powerful long hands, capable of turning life to dust weaved themselves tenderly into her work-disheveled tresses. Turning her head to face him once more, his mouth swept down to her lips in a desperate attempt to arrest her escape.  
Lavellan hardly knew whether to give into the titillation igniting in her limbs or to send his skin crackling with fire. _Lure me in only to push me away, then change your mind. Over and over and over again… It never ends, Solas. What do you want?_  
  
His hands answered her. His fingers held the back of her head firmly, while his free hand traced the line of her collarbone before caressing her jaw. His lips glided slowly against hers, relishing, savoring, teasing. The smell of leather, damp earth and rainy forest lingered on his skin; it smelled faintly of sweat, wind and sunshine. His presence, his scent, his heat washed over her skin, knocking all reason out of her.  
  
Protest as her few thoughts might, she was his, completely lost to his magic. She felt whispers of his quiet power tingle through her limbs, drawing on her own mana, leaving them both weightless and leaden all in one.  
  
Time lost any meaning as the world around her lost its definition, shadows melting into the darkness. All that remained was the intensity of Solas’s presence, his energy, bending and twisting the air around them as it reached for her own crackling and writhing light, emanating from her skin like the cold shimmer of distant stars. She felt as though every cell within her body connected with his, oscillating with a whole new power all their own. His touch not only brushed her skin, but her memories, her fears, her desires.  
  
_Fen’Harel…_  
  
She only prayed she wouldn’t wake up.


End file.
